When we got home from the day’s events, Lily was still dressed like a princess and opening her presents with great joy. She was so happy that she laughed out loud as she tore through the paper of each gift, finding toys and books inside. But even though she was happy, she didn’t open one gift: a box from my dad and his wife, Jane. It was beautifully wrapped.
I gave her a light push because I was interested. “Darling, why didn’t you open this one?” You want to see what’s inside, right?
Little hands shook, and she looked scared at me. She screamed, “No, mommy, I’m scared!”
I asked her, “But why, my love?” Jane and Grandpa sent it. You know how much they love you.”
The next thing she said really scared me. “Then why did I hear Jane say that she and Grandpa would take me to the doctor tomorrow after I opened it?”
My spouse and I looked at each other with confused looks. We went to a different room with her other gifts to get her attention off of us after I picked her up and smiled at her to make her feel better. Still, the pain lingered until my interest won out over my fear. When I took the gift from my dad and Jane out of the box, I saw a pair of big, heavy earrings that were covered in stones. My heart broke.
Faith and anger took hold of me. I didn’t get Lily’s ears pierced, and neither did my husband. Our view has always been the same: she should decide when she is ready. But since Lily was born, Jane has been bugging us nonstop about getting Lily’s ears fixed, using any old-fashioned reason she can think of.
There was no way we could stop Jane from piercing Lily’s ears without our permission. Maybe she was tired of being turned down over and over again. The truth hit like a ton of bricks. They even made up a story about wanting to take Lily and her brother out for the day to hide their real intentions. They did this to give us a break.
When my dad called the next day to talk about their plans, I told him what I thought. When Jane jumped in and asked angrily, “So what?” the argument quickly fell apart. Does she need her ears pierced?” Something inside me caught fire when she said those things, and I couldn’t stop talking. I told Lily how hurt and cheated I was and even told her where I knew she could sell the earrings and buy anything else she wanted.
They didn’t show any empathy at all. Jane’s tears and my dad’s scolding about selling their “thoughtful gift” made the hole bigger. The argument got very hot very quickly, and I told them they wouldn’t be able to see me until they behaved better.
My husband was there for me, but he thought that the way I said goodbye to my dad and Jane might have been too harsh. But at that very moment, all I could think about was Lily’s freedom of choice, her power over her body, and how important it is to respect our parenting choices.
The results were cruel and happened quickly. There were no calls or visits like there used to be. But in the middle of the worry, there was a deep understanding. There was more at stake than just earrings. It was about teaching our kids respect, limits, and the right kinds of values.
The weeks turned into days, and there were many ways to think about things. As we made our way through this new area, we started talking again slowly and carefully. It was hard and took a long time, but the path to understanding and peace was necessary.
Looking back, I can see that even though it was very sad, this event made our family’s core values stronger. This taught us how important it is to fight for what’s right, even if it means facing wrong directly. But maybe most importantly, it was a lesson that real love values being unique and being able to make your own choices.
Is it wrong for me to buy a birthday present for the daughter of my friends?
When you find yourself accidentally playing the main character in a children’s story, you realize that things aren’t as easy as they used to be. Being the “cool aunt” who always has the perfect gift on hand makes me very happy. I learned how to do this while managing the chaos of a big family full of cousins and nephews.
But that’s not why we’re telling this story. It’s about Lily, who is the daughter of my good friends Mike and Sarah, whose marriage was falling apart faster than a child can break a cookie. We were all very close, and they were the picture of ideal. They were high school sweethearts who got married and then welcomed Lily into the world. As their marriage fell apart, it was like seeing a car crash in slow motion. You wanted to turn away, but you couldn’t.
But Lily is a different story. I feel like she’s my own child, not just a friend’s. I fell in love with her as soon as I squealed and held her in the hospital. Even though her parents were getting a divorce, her 12th birthday was coming up, and I thought she deserved something special that would really make her happy. I finally gave in to her need for skyscrapers and architectural dreams by picking out a LEGO set of the Singapore skyline.
The plan was simple: I would surprise Lily with the gift and a beautiful pink cake I had picked up on the way. But when I got to their door, the day went in a direction I hadn’t planned. Lily opened the door and her eyes lit up when she saw the cake and gift. It broke my heart. The way she said it, “You remembered,” made me feel both relieved and shocked. It hit me at that moment that her parents had forgotten her birthday.
In any other situation, you might expect an apology or an explanation about how hard it is for them to be apart, but not this time. Instead, Mike and Sarah surrounded me and spoke words that cut like knives. “Could you do something to remind us?” Sarah lost it and blew up.
Mike added his words, making it clear that he was mad. It’s been a rough time for us, Nancy. An alert would have been helpful.
I couldn’t believe it. “But you kids aren’t her parents?” I shot back, having a hard time understanding how silly it was. “Didn’t you remember the birthday of your daughter?”
After that, the argument got out of hand, and charges were made all around until Lily broke down in tears. She had heard all of this. Her parents asked me to leave, and their sadness temporarily shut her up. I did what they said, cake in hand and my mind running.
As I sit here on my couch with a cake in one hand and a spoon in the other, I think about what happened that day. When I think about my childhood and when my parents broke up, I can’t help but remember them. Their problems never got in the way of our lives. As before, holidays and birthdays were celebrated with the same amount of joy. They made sure we knew how loved and important we were.
My goal was to show Lily some of that warmth and let her know that I loved her no matter what. But as I sit here, I wonder if I went too far and if my goals were the wrong ones. Did I mess up when I gave Lily a present without telling her parents? Should I have told them they were wrong, even if they did it by accident?
I’m still putting Lily first as I work through these ideas. Because of the short smile she had when she saw the LEGO set, I know I made the right choice. But the breakup with Sarah and Mike is still having a big effect on me. Where do we go from here? How can I mend these bridges? Not for my own good, but for Lily’s?
